The pub and Thames are pretty much as they were in 1860 but the merchant shipping has gone, completely.

It really is remarkable to look back at London's long maritime history, of the docks, shipyards, thousands of boats, so thick and busy that Brunel built his famous Thames Tunnel, hundreds of years of tradition, now almost all gone.

I hadn't, but having gone through the Thames Tunnel on the first booking on Sunday morning (really heavy demand for those tickets) there was plenty of time to head downriver to Greenwich to have a look round.

To be honest it was a bit underwhelming, with a couple of videos of old salts heading off for a month on a lighthouse, but there seemed to be some new exhibits so I took the opportunity to look round, in particular the Traders.

This picture caught my eye:

It's the dockyard for the East India Company on the Thames and what a lot of boats they were building, serious ocean going transports.

But then there has never been another company like the "Honourable Company", which is probably just as well, given the colonial occupation of India, the Bengal famine and of course the Opium Wars, when blighty went to war with China because they wouldn't buy our opium (the cheek of it).

Monday, May 26, 2014

It was the first tunnel built under a navigable river, constructed way back between 1825 and 1843 by the 20 year old Isambard Kingdom Brunel and his dad, Sir Marc.

It almost killed him. There were several floods and half a dozen workers were downed, and when we went through there was an ominous sound of water trickling from somewhere:

It's rare you have a chance to walk through as its currently used by the London Overground railway and there could be a bit of shock for visitors even if you weren't hit by a thundering train:

It was never used for its intended purposes, which was horses and carts, as they ran out of money before they could build the spiral ramp down. In fact finishing the tunnel itself was a bit touch and go before Brunel had the great idea of holding an investor's dinner actually in the half completed tunnel complete with brass band.

So after it finally got built it was eventually taken over by the world's oldest underground railway, the tube.

It took about fifteen minutes to walk to north London and another fifteen minutes back again, passing this plaque:

It really is remarkable bit of engineering for such a long time ago.

And the reason for all that effort, the piles of money and the death of the workers?

The docks, filled with thousands upon thousands of ships, whose tall masts prevented a bridge being built but drove demand for better transport links between south and north of the river.

Sunday, May 25, 2014

On my way back from the Viking Exhibition at the British Museum I made my way down Shaftesbury Avenue, heading towards Seven Dials, where I remembered there was an old ship's chandlery.

Arthur Beale had been a bit tatty when I first moved to London, and that was many years ago now, and so I did wonder if it would still be there or had been blown away by harsh commercial realities.

I was delighted to find out it was still there and then, shortly after, discover it had been taken over by a group including Alasdair of the Sumara of Weymouth blog.

They'd sailed up to Jan Mayen, an island I long to be able to visit, north of where Tristan and I went for our Arctic sail, and the climbed the mighty Beerenberg with Siggi, who I sailed to Greenland with last year.

So after my walk to Greenwich I thought I'd check out what their plans were for this institutions, and it sounded very exciting.

I'd only poked around the book section previously and Alasdair showed me all over, including the basement that had an impressive and authentic looking workshop:

They had discovered all sorts of gems. As well as sailing equipment they'd also sold mountaineering gear such as rope and ice picks, and had memorabilia from Norway (below) and a ripping yarns of a telegram (top):

There was clearly a lot of work to re-organise and re-build the inventory and I'll keep an eye on how the work progresses.

But the idea seemed great: a shop for sailors and explorers run by sailors and explorers, with character and history, right in the heart of the city.

Can't wait to pop in again and discover what new expeditions, big and small, it has helped on their way.

Monday, May 19, 2014

Yesterday's picture was of the coat of arms of Trinity House or more formally:

The Master Wardens and Assistants of the Guild Fraternity or Brotherhood of the most glorious and undivided Trinity and of St. Clement in the Parish of Deptford Strond in the County of Kent

Trinity House is the body responsible in the UK for lighthouses and navigation aids, buoys, channels markers and pilots.

It was formed 500 years ago by Henry VIII and as a celebration of that birthday they held an open day when you could wander around their splendid headquarters in London:

It looks wonderful, the sort of place you could imagine Samuel Pepys (who's many roles included being Master there) striding magisterially but actually its all been reconstructed.

Alas during World War 2 it was gutted after an incendiary bomb fell on the building, but fortunately there had been a comprehensive photo shoot done for Country Life so they were able to do a wonderful restoration job.

Rather less lucky was what happened to the paintings not as big as the ones here. The non-huge paintings were transfered to the Tower of London for safe keeping. However it was found they were suffering from water damage so it was arranged for them to be collected and sent out of London.

Alas the delivery pick up was from Trinity House and in the handful of days they were back in that building it was bombed.

Well according to the British Museum what you should think of is broaches, for there're a lot of them in this extraordinarily boring and disappointing exhibition about Vikings.

Of course there's not just broaches, there are also clothing clasps, bangles, cups, combs and even horse stirrups.

I mean silly me, wanting to see one of those Viking navigation tools, the sunboards they used to cross the North Atlantic Ocean. What really mattered was their broaches.

Yes there is the great long ship (above) but its a metal shell for a few planks. Even the Evening Standard's Brian Sewell - not known as a sailor - had a long, long list of questions that were unanswered:

We cannot tell how it sat on the water, where the oarsmen were — were they aft, their weight keeping the prow high? Nor how many men there were, where they slept, where they kept their stores or stowed their booty. Was it in any way decked? Where could a Byzantine Emperor have dined? Could it be beached, or did it require a harbour? What were it colours? How big was its sail?

Monday, May 05, 2014

Yesterday's photo of a yacht sailing on the Thames was taken in Erith, and the question posed was whether it was in London or not.

Tillerman answered yes, and there is solid evidence on his side. Wikipedia shows Erith in Greater London and if that isn't categorical enough then you can get there on an Oyster card, so it is officially within the remit of London Transport.

But it doesn't feel like London.

You can walk on the Thames path for five or even ten minutes before seeing another walker. And then they say "good morning", sometimes even unprompted. Real Londoner's jaws are at this moment slack, as no Londoner spontaneously acknowledges another while travelling.

What's more you can't see the Shard and how can you still be in London and not see the Shard?

Strangely enough by the time you've walked far enough towards the centre to see the Shard people stop saying good morning.

It feels very different from urban populated London. The landscape seems inhuman, empty of people, where you can hear the throb of heavy machinery and the tweet of birds but not much else.

But you can't escape the city: your nose tells you it is there.

The great works of Joseph Bazelgette created the network of tunnels that transports London's sewage away from the centre down to the city's borders, the wastelands of the estuary.

And as you walk upriver passing the Erith Marshes you reach the Crossness Pumping Station and its equivalent on the northern bank:

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